It is said,
my divine creature, or rather it is hinted, that a certain clodhopping
boor, from the congenial wilds of Ahadarra, is favored by some benignant
glances from those lights of yours that do mislead the moon. I hope this
is not so--bow wow!--ho! ho!--I smell the blood of a rival; and be he
great or small, red or black, or of any color in the rainbow, I
shall have him for my. breakfast--ho! ho! You see now, my most divine
Kathleen, what a terrible animal to all rivals and competitors for your
affections I shall be; and that if it were only for their own sakes, and
to prevent carnage and cannibalism, it will be well for you to banish
them once and forever, and be content only with myself.
"Seriously, my dear Kathleen, I believe I am half-crazed; and, if so,
you are the sole cause of it. I can think of no other object than your
beautiful self; and I need scarcely say, that I shall have neither peace
nor happiness unless I shall be fortunate enough to gain a place in your
tender bosom. As for the Ahadarra man, I am surprised you should think of
such an ignorant clodhopper--a fellow whose place Providence especially
allotted to between the stilts of a plough, and at the tail of a pair
of horses. Perhaps you would be kind enough to take a walk on Thursday
evening, somewhere near the river--where I hope I shall have an
opportunity of declaring my affection for you in person.
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